


Eternal summer shall not fade

by trisarawrtops



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, PWP, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 18:34:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7903303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trisarawrtops/pseuds/trisarawrtops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s so hot, he can barely breathe. The air itself feels heavy, sticky and clinging. He’s sprawled on their worn couch, window open to catch any breeze there is, but the city is stagnant, and the open window is doing little more than letting in the scents of the tenement. </p>
<p>Or, how Steve and Bucky keep cool on a hot summer day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eternal summer shall not fade

It’s so hot, he can barely breathe. The air itself feels heavy, sticky and clinging. He’s sprawled on their worn couch, window open to catch any breeze there is, but the city is stagnant, and the open window is doing little more than letting in the scents of the tenement. He’s pretty sure old Mrs. Jackson downstairs is dumping her garbage right in front of her door again because it smells of rotting food. 

He tilts his head back to look at the clock hanging over the kitchen counter. Bucky’s late. Steve would walk down to the docks and find him, drag him home for dinner – and deal with that garbage at the same time – but he’s stripped down to his underwear and he refuses to put his sweat-soaked clothes back on. Besides, he’s fairly certain he’s stuck to the couch. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine what winter feels like. It’s not really working. 

There’s footsteps on the stairs outside, and the sound of a key in the lock. 

“Mrs. Jackson left her garbage out again. Stinks,” Bucky says when he opens the door. Steve makes a noise in his throat in response but otherwise doesn’t move. Bucky’s footsteps bypass the couch, head straight to the little kitchen. Steve hears him drop something in the sink, then – 

“Well, hey there, doll.” Steve opens his eyes. Bucky’s standing above him, a little smirk on his face. Steve can’t help but smile in response. Even covered in sweat and dirt, Bucky’s the most handsome guy he’s seen. Steve tilts his head back on the arm of the couch, inviting a kiss, and Bucky leans in, kissing him upside down. He runs one hand down Steve’s bare chest and Steve’s about to push him off because it’s way too hot to touch when the temperature of Bucky’s fingers registers. 

Steve sits up in surprise, almost hitting Bucky on the way up. “Your hand is cold!” Bucky grins and nods. “Ice truck got in an accident at the end of the street. ‘S why I’m late, was helping clear it up.” He points to his wet shirt – melted ice, not sweat – then pushes Steve back onto the couch. “Stay there a sec,” he says and goes to the kitchen sink. Steve watches as he lifts out a chunk of ice. 

“Buck!” Steve sits back up. Ice is expensive these days. “Did you steal that?”

“Relax, Stevie, it’s hardly that big. It was just gonna melt anyway.” 

Bucky drops the ice onto the counter, pulls out their knife and a wooden spoon. He digs the knife into the ice block, wiggling it back and forth, then smashes the end of the wooden spoon into the same place. Steve can see where this is going. He’s on his feet and next to the counter when the first chunk of ice breaks off. He grabs it, reveling in the cold, and goes to put it in his mouth when Bucky’s hand snakes out and closes around his wrist.

“Wash it first! It was on the ground!” Bucky scolds him. Steve rolls his eyes, but rinses the piece of ice in the sink. The cold water spilling off it is the best thing he’s felt all day, leaving points of cool on his overheated skin. 

Steve sucks on the piece of ice, letting the cold trickle down his throat, while Bucky smashes more chunks off the little block. Steve collects the pieces as they fall, rinsing them and dropping them into a bowl. 

Bucky’s made quite a dent in the ice block, and water is starting to drip off the counter where the ice is melting. Steve runs his fingers through the water, capturing as much as he can, and lets it dribble down his chest. Bucky watches him with dark eyes. “You too hot, Stevie?” he asks, voice rough. Steve nods, feeling his blood start to pool downwards. Bucky turns away, pulls a pot from above the stove, drops the rest of the ice block into it and shoves the whole thing into the icebox. He grabs the bowl of ice chunks with one hand and pushes Steve ahead of him with his other. 

The bedroom is even hotter than the living area and Steve can feel himself starting to sweat again. Bucky shoves him onto their bed, kicking the door closed as he does. Steve goes willingly, flopping down on top of the only sheet they haven’t kicked off. 

Bucky puts the bowl of ice on the bedside table and yanks his wet shirt over his head and kicks his pants across the room. “Off,” he demands, pulling at Steve’s underwear. Steve shimmies the underwear down his hips, letting his legs fall open so his hot skin doesn’t touch itself. Bucky grins and picks a piece of ice out of the bowl. He presses it to Steve’s lips, and Steve chases the cold with his tongue. Bucky lifts it away and replaces it with his hot mouth. The difference in temperatures make Steve’s lips tingle. 

Bucky runs the piece of ice down his chest, chasing it with his lips, pressing hot kisses over the cold trail. Steve can feel goose bumps forming in his wake, and his blood rapidly following Bucky’s path down. When the ice skates over his left nipple, followed quickly by Bucky’s hot mouth, Steve’s hips lift off the bed and he gasps. Bucky closes his teeth on the nipple, and Steve’s suddenly rock hard. “Fuck,” he says. 

“That’s the idea,” Bucky smirks. Steve huffs a laugh – even in bed, Bucky can’t resist making horrible jokes – but it’s rapidly cut off when Bucky trails the ice down his rib cage and skates it over his abs, pausing just above Steve’s cock. 

Steve looks down. Bucky is kneeling between his legs, looking at him with a question on his face. He trails the ice closer to Steve’s cock, pauses again. “Yeah,” Steve says. His voice sounds rough to his own ears. Bucky grins, and even though Steve’s expecting it, the ice circling the tip of his cock is still a surprise. It’s shocking how cold it is, and he flinches away instinctively. Bucky hums in sympathy and takes Steve in his mouth, curling his hot tongue under the head. That’s… Fuck. Steve’s hips thrust forward without his permission. Bucky clamps a strong hand onto his hipbone and pulls back. And then Bucky’s leaning up, dropping the melting piece of ice onto Steve’s chest – Steve flinches a little –, and fishing a fresh piece from the bowl next to him. He settles back, presses his arm across Steve’s lower belly, pinning him to the bed.

Bucky traces Steve’s hipbone with the ice, trailing it down to his inner thigh, scribing little loops and swirls of cold into Steve’s skin. He bends his head, pressing hot kisses into Steve’s other thigh. He trails his kisses and the ice in a seemingly random pattern, dancing up towards the base of Steve’s cock, only to dart away. Steve’s pushing up against Bucky’s strong arm, the unpredictable pattern of the ice and kisses making him tense with anticipation. His body is covered in goose bumps, and his cock twitches involuntarily when Bucky skates the ice over the inside of his left hip. Bucky sucks a mark over the same spot on his hip, burning hot on cold, and Steve feels sparks shoot straight to his groin. There’s warmth pooling there, and Bucky has hardly even touched his dick. The contrast in temperature is overwhelming, making his skin hyper-sensitive. He can hear his blood pounding in his ears.

His cock drips. He feels it when it lands on his stomach and looks down in time to see Bucky swipe the drop up with his finger and lick it into his mouth. He can’t help but let out a little groan at the sight, pushing his hips up more insistently, trying to get Bucky’s mouth on him. Bucky pushes his hips back down. And then there’s heat surrounding his cock. And cold. Steve’s convinced for a moment his body has lost its ability to properly tell temperature, but then the cold is moving. Bucky has the piece of ice in his mouth and is swirling it up and down Steve’s cock. 

Bucky has always had a talented tongue and the ice in his mouth only amplifies the sensations, shooting lightning throughout Steve’s body. Minutes pass, or maybe seconds. Steve’s lost his sense of time, caught up in the feeling of Bucky’s mouth, licking, sucking, Bucky’s hands holding him firmly to the bed. He can feel his balls start to draw up against his will, and one of Bucky’s hands gently traces along the tightening skin, leaving sparks in its wake. 

He flails one hand down to grab at Bucky’s hair, a warning. Bucky just hums in his throat and pushes down further, taking Steve as deep as he can, and Steve’s gone. His world goes white, his muscles tense and fire rushes through his veins. He’s trembling when it’s done, trying to force his fingers to cooperate enough to pull Bucky off him as he starts to get too sensitive. Bucky sits up, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He’s got a very self-satisfied grin on his face. 

Steve tries to make his voice work, but only manages a little grunt. He settles for making grabbing motions, and Bucky flops next to him, presses a sloppy kiss to Steve’s cheek. Steve makes a face, tries to wipe his cheek, but Bucky just rolls on top of him, kissing everything he can reach and laughing at Steve’s feeble attempts to push him off. Bucky’s hips are pressed to Steve’s and Steve can suddenly feel Bucky’s erection pushing into him. 

Steve manages to snake his arm between their bodies, and wrap his fingers around the head of Bucky’s cock. Bucky groans into Steve’s hair and presses his hips down further. 

“Off,” Steve tells him, pushing up on Bucky’s abdomen. Bucky bites at Steve’s ear and rocks his hips down again. “Off so I can move my hand,” he pushes. 

Bucky whines in his throat but rolls onto his back, closing his eyes and spreading his limbs across the bed. Steve is suddenly aware of the heat, and of the sweat sprinkled across Bucky’s muscular chest and abdomen. He reaches for the bowl of ice. It’s mostly water at this point, but it’s still cold. He scoops water into his palm, and drips it down Bucky’s chest. Bucky jumps and his eyes fly open in surprise, but then he runs his fingers through the water pooling in the dips of his muscles and trails the liquid down his abdomen. 

Steve takes more water, dribbling it past Bucky’s hands, down to his cock jutting towards the ceiling. Bucky rocks his hips up, and Steve wraps his fingers around Bucky’s cock. It’s burning hot in contrast to the water, and Steve can only imagine how his cool fingers feel for Bucky. 

Bucky doesn’t last long. Steve knows exactly how he likes it, just this side of rough, and a thumb flicking over the head, gently rubbing the slit. He’s soon spilling heat across Steve’s fingers, coating them in white, muscles standing out as he tenses. 

Steve drops down next to Bucky, wiping his hand on a handkerchief on the bedside table, and pressing his forehead to Bucky’s temple. Bucky turns his head and kisses him lazily. Steve can feel him smiling and when he pulls away, Bucky’s got a grin on his face. “Glad I took that piece of ice?”

Steve flicks water in his face in response and Bucky laughs. His laugh is interrupted by a yawn. “Nap,” he says, pulling Steve to his side and putting the bowl of ice water on the bedside table. 

“Dinner,” Steve tells him. 

“Nap first,” Bucky responds, closing his eyes. Steve heaves a put-upon sigh as he adjusts his pillow and curls onto his side, and Bucky’s lips twitch. Bucky’s happy little smile is the last thing Steve sees before he dozes off.

The heat breaks while they’re asleep. Steve wakes to the sound of thunder and a beautiful cool breeze brushing over his skin. He presses himself to Bucky’s side, chasing the warmth of his body, and pulls a sheet from the end of their bed over them. Bucky sleepily wraps his arms around him and mumbles into his hair. “Love you too, Buck,” Steve says.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Shakespeare's "Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?". Written in honour of the ridiculous heat we've been getting, and my lack of air-conditioning. 
> 
> This is my first time publishing anything explicit. Concrit welcome!


End file.
